***
Part 5
Still fretting about Angel, Willow wandered into Wesley's office. As soon as he spotted her, Spike stopped pacing and said, "You didn't let Angel weasel his way onto my bandwagon, did you?"
Willow rolled her eyes. "Relax, Spike. You're still the belle of the ball." She glanced over at Wesley, who was seated at his desk. "Any questions?"
He tapped a pen on a notepad. "No. But I am a little concerned that you'll be leaving yourself open to--"
"Trust me, Wes, I know what I'm doing."
"Yeah, she knows what she's doing," Spike said with an enthusiastic head waggle in her direction. He paused. "Er, what exactly are you doing?"
Feeling a touch giddy from the spell she'd performed, Willow plopped down on the couch. "Don't worry your little head about it, Spike." His eyebrows shot up. "It's a done deal. All you have to do is show up." A thought occurred to her. "Oh, and you might wanna work on your speech."
He frowned as if trying to work out the punchline. "Speech?"
"Did I forget to mention that?" she said, sporting an innocent face.
Spike's jaw tightened. "What speech?"
She sat forward, resting elbows on knees. "It's not like we're going to a wishing well. You're gonna have to convince the Powers to make you corporeal. They won't do it without good reason."
Spike placed his hands on his hips, the picture of indignation. "Let me get this straight: I save the world, and now I have to get down on my knees and beg?"
"Don't be so melodramatic, Spike; you won't have to kneel. And a word of advice--be nice."
"Nice?" Wesley said. "Is that possible?"
"Hey!" Spike glared at him. "I can be bloody nice when I want to be." He stomped over to Willow and pinned her with his look of death. She didn't have the heart to tell him his death glare had passed its use-by date a few years ago. "I thought you were all cosy with the Powers. Why can't you make with the chit-chat?"
Fed up with his whining, she stood. "Because I'm gonna be high as a kite, maybe even a blimp, so I doubt anything coherent will be coming out of my mouth." He tried to interrupt but she talked right over him. "Look, we don't have to do this. You can spend the rest of your days haunting this delightful establishment, hanging around Angel, unable to beat the living daylights out of--"
He growled. "You've made your point."
Wesley's hand hovered before his mouth, masking a grin. She winked at him. "So everything's all set?" she asked.
"All set," Wesley said with a nod. "And you're certain your plan will work?"
Tilting her head, she considered for a moment and smiled. "Nope. But it's probably our best chance."
Smacking his forehead, Spike muttered something about being doomed.
"So I'll see you guys tonight. Don't be late." With a cheery wave, Willow headed out the door.
***
Willow spent the rest of the day trawling half a dozen magic shops in LA. None of the shops stocked the rare items she was looking for, but then she hadn't expected them to. Her shopping list was a cover so she could touch base with an old friend of Giles without drawing attention.
As she walked back to her hotel, her stomach churned with anticipation. She could have put it down to nerves but she knew it was more than that. She hadn't performed any major magic since she'd empowered the slayers, and truth be told she'd missed the rush, the sensation of every cell in her body purring.
In the hectic days after they'd beaten back the First, Willow had been content to bask in the afterglow with her loved ones, happy to be alive. They'd mourned the fallen, and set about reorganising the Watchers Council. It was a while before she realised how much the empowering spell had changed her--the power she'd channelled had purified her, cleansed her of the taint of dark magic. She wasn't immune to it, but she no longer had to worry about walking the knife-edge every time she exercised her magic. The revelation had brought overwhelming relief, and at the same time a sense of loss. She'd spent so long fighting the temptation of dark magic, she didn't know what to do with herself when the fight was over.
And so she'd allowed the administrative work to claim more and more of her time, all the while denying what she was. It had been so easy to tell herself she was being useful, even as she grew more and more disgruntled with both the work and her friends.
After performing the spell in Angel's office, Willow knew she was through deluding herself. That small taste of magic had reminded her of what she'd been missing, and though nervous, she was looking forward to the stimulation of working some major mojo.
When she reached the hotel she went straight up to her room and packed her stuff. While she waited she practised several breathing exercises and mentally rehearsed the incantation she was planning to use. Half an hour before sunset, Willow checked out of the hotel and got into the car waiting for her.
***
The last light of the day had just faded from the western sky. Spike paced, every once in a while checking on Wesley, who knelt on the grass arranging fat white candles in a circle. A breeze rustled the trees encircling the grove where he stood, and if he closed his eyes Spike could almost feel the air moving on his skin. In the distance, children complained as their parents escorted them from the park. This was a public space, but they were in a secluded spot perfect for romantic couples or, from another perspective, mugging the tourists.
He craved a cigarette; it would help take the edge off. Although, if he could smoke he wouldn't need to be here in the first place, he acknowledged with a rueful grin. He glanced at Wesley; Stiff Upper Lip kept shooting apprehensive looks into the trees.
"They're not going to go away just cause you keep looking at 'em, you know," Spike said.
Wesley shrugged. "I know. I can't help it." He cast an inquisitive look at Spike. "Do you know how many there are?"
"Four heartbeats...other than yours."
"Hmm," was all Wesley said.
Spike noted that, despite his anxiety, Wesley didn't look at all surprised. "How'd you know they were there?" Spike said, scrutinising his fellow Brit.
"It hardly takes a genius to imagine the senior partners would be curious enough to send spies."
Spike opened his mouth to ask why they weren't leaving, but an odd tingling invaded his chest. Frowning, he looked down, then around the grove. Still no Willow, so what could be causing...
"Something wrong, Spike?"
The tingling spread through his entire body, transforming into a tugging sensation, and he realised what was happening. "Something's got me," he yelped, closing his eyes and focusing all his energy into resisting the pull.
"Spike!"
He snapped his eyes open and found Wesley standing before him.
"Spike, it's all right. It's Willow."
"How d'you know?"
"Because she bloody well warned me, you twit! Now let go."
Spike wasn't nearly as certain as Wesley, but the pull was growing stronger and he was slipping. Cursing, Spike realised he had no choice but to trust that Wesley was right, and he stopped fighting. Wesley and the grove swirled into a blur and evolved into a walled garden alive with greenery. Spike sought and, to his relief, spotted Willow a few feet away. Eyes closed, she was clutching the amulet in an outstretched hand. Her eyes opened and she smiled when she saw him.
"Red, what's with the beam-me-up shenanigans?"
"I don't like performing with an audience," Willow said absently as she turned to a woman with long grey hair. "I've got it. Thanks."
With a soft, "May the Goddess guide you," the woman left, her bare feet crunching the grass towards a mansion at the far end of the garden.
Spike stared after her. "Who's Mother Earth?"
"Hmm? Oh, that's Claire, she's the leader of the coven." Willow looped the amulet around her neck.
Pivoting, he felt more confused than ever. "Coven? Where are we? What's going--"
"Spike!" She waited until he was facing her. "There'll be time for the debriefing later. Right now, all you need to know is that you can trust Claire. Are you ready?" Taking a wide-legged stance, Willow held her open hands away from her body.
"Uh, shouldn't there be a circle?"
Sighing, she let her hands drop. "No need. The grounds are consecrated and the garden is shielded." Sympathy glowed in her eyes, telling him she recognised his delaying tactic for what it was. "Now, are you ready?" she said softly.
Everything was happening so fast. He wished he'd spent more time preparing instead of grilling Wesley about Willow's plan. Too late for that now. Knowing this could be his last chance to become corporeal again, Spike gritted his teeth and nodded.
She began chanting. The words were gibberish to him, but they sounded old...ancient. As if it had a life of its own, her hair rose and danced about her head. He sensed the energy building in the air and began to squirm. Body or no body, he could feel the magic penetrating him, stinging his insides. Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, he was blinded by a flash and heard a loud crack. Willow stopped chanting, and when he recovered his vision he saw she was floating several inches off the ground. Her hair glowed white and she regarded him with fiery eyes.
Spike hesitated, uncertain how to proceed. But the decision was taken from him when Willow spoke, her voice taking on an imperious tone that wasn't hers.
"Vampire, why have you summoned us?"
"Isn't it bleeding obvious?" he said without thinking. Recalling Willow's admonition, he winced. But the expected backlash never came so he continued, trying to restrain his temper. "I want to know what happened to me. I want my body back."
"You wish to take back your sacrifice?" Her voice echoed in the still air.
"No, that's not what I--" Frustrated, he pounded his chest. "How did I get like this?"
Willow tilted her head. He had the impression the entities within her were consulting each other. "You were a puzzle: a soul that did not breathe, a demon who murdered innocents yet sacrificed himself, a champion forged from obsession and desire. We knew not what to do with you."
Spike's temper flared; what kind of stupid answer was that? "So you made me a ghost?"
"In the moment of indecision, a will made itself known."
"A will...Willow. You're talking about Willow."
"The witch whose body we inhabit...yes. She wished...and we executed."
Snorting, he shook his head. Figured. "But why like this? Why didn't you leave me as I was?"
"We did, vampire. Your shell was gone--all that remained was your essence, and this we bound to the artifact."
Tugging his hair, Spike paced, aware of the unearthly gaze upon him. "Can you restore my...shell now?"
"Why would we do this?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it's the right thing to do!"
Again there was no response to his outburst, other than a pause while the entities chatted amongst themselves. It was a wonder they got anything done. He worried his lower lip, brooding over what he was going to do if they refused to help him.
"What do you offer in return?" they asked.
"Eh." Willow hadn't said anything about a bargain, and somehow he didn't think they'd be interested in a beat-up leather coat. Revealing his open hands, he said, "I have nothing."
"Wrong, vampire. You have your life."
He blinked. "Wait a sec. If I offer you my life, than what do I get..." Realisation washed over him like a bad smell, and he began shaking his head. "Oh no. No way. I'm not gonna be one of your champions."
"You wish a life without purpose?"
"I've got a purpose; it involves drinking, shagging, and spilling blood. What it doesn't involve is saving damsels in distress--that's Angel's gig."
Willow's eyes momentarily brightened, then she inclined her head. "Very well. We will depart."
"Whoa! Hold on." Bugger it. It looked as if he wasn't going to be able to bluff his way out of this one. "So that's it? If I don't do your dirty work, you're going to leave me like this?"
Unruffled, Willow watched him with an inscrutable expression. "There is a price to be paid."
"And if I refuse to pay?" Spike said, raising an eyebrow.
"You will remain as you are--without form."
Spike growled; it was blackmail, pure and simple. Unfortunately, he was in no position to negotiate. "All right, damn it!"
Willow's eyes blazed. Without warning, an arc of pure white flame erupted from the amulet around her neck and hit him squarely in the chest. He didn't even have time to react before agony ripped through him, causing his back to arch involuntarily. He hung, suspended for what seemed like forever as raw power scorched him from the inside out. It felt as if he was dying all over again.
The pain was abruptly cut off. Spike's knees collapsed and he toppled face down on the ground, where he lay waiting for the feeling to return to his limbs. The scent of fresh tender grass wafted up his nose and he dug his fingers into the soil, savouring its crumbly texture and loamy fragrance. He felt exhilarated; it'd bloody fucking worked! The witch had pulled it off. Speaking of Willow...
Spike rolled to his feet and his dead heart spasmed when he saw Willow crumpled in a heap. She was unconscious.
***